<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Philo by draculard</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726110">Philo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard'>draculard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Katie - Michael McDowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animal Death, Dark!Philo Drax, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Animal Abuse, Mild Gore, Non-Consensual Bondage, Psychic Abilities, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:01:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Philo catches Katie on the ferry, but she doesn't kill her. </p><p>What she does is much worse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katie Slape/Philomela Drax</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Philo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The woman tied to Philo’s bed wasn’t pretty at the best of times, but she was especially unpleasant to look at now, with her black eyes glazed and piggish, her hair greasy and stuck to her forehead; sweat beaded on Katie’s upper lip, catching in the short, almost invisible hairs there. There were dark patches on the underarms of her dress, too, sticking out in stark relief against the cheap material.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Philo liked those patches; she’d come to appreciate the sweat. It was a testament to Katie’s fear, or at least to her distress. She leaned over the bed, her own hair perfectly done up, her dress expensive and nicely-tailored </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> the very picture of a high-class, well-bred lady. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what you see,” she said, and she placed her cool, bare palm against Katie’s feverish forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katie’s eyes screwed up in pain; she bared her teeth, flinched away from Philo’s touch. There was nowhere for her to go, and her head just thumped back against the mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what you see,” said Philo again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gradually, Katie’s eyes glazed over, becoming a peculiar, stony shade of grey. Her mouth went slack; she gazed off into the corner of the room. When she spoke, her voice was monotonous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see hot oil and burning skin,” she said. “I see</span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her breath hitched. Philo’s lips pulled back into a gentle smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see,” said Katie, almost inaudible now, “a bloody needle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grey faded from her eyes. Her breath was trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my,” said Philo brightly, “but you’ve seen something like that before, haven’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katie said nothing. Her teeth were clenched. She had, Philo knew, never seen anything like this before. She’d seen old men with gravel shoved down their throats until they choked </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> she’d seen women with their jaws kicked into broken shards and puppies with their bloated stomachs punctured </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> but in all those instances, she’d seen something else, too. Her hand on the weapon. Her boot raised for one last killing blow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d never had visions where she was the one being hurt before. The fear shone in her eyes the same way it showed in the eyes of a wild dog; dumb and helpless and hateful all at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Philo said to her. “It’ll be fun </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> at least, for me, it will.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>She took her time unbuttoning the bodice of Katie’s gaudy dress, peeling back the material from her wet skin. Philo’s fingers trailed over Katie’s ribs, over her stomach, over her breasts flattened by gravity as she lay on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the table beside the bed, she had a small oil lamp ready to go. The wick was burning, keeping the oil hot. No matter what Philo did to Katie’s bare skin </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> no matter where she touched, no matter how long she lingered </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> Katie never wavered. She was staring hard at that oil, and she would not look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Experimentally, Philo leaned down, her mouth level with one of Katie’s breasts. She caressed the nipple with her tongue, laving it, leaving it wet and cool when she pulled away. Her hands snuck up, taking each nipple between her fingers, pinching and twisting until both were flushed red and standing up. Katie’s breath hitched, but she did not look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not until Philo straightened up, smiling wide and bright. Then, Katie finally met her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Philo said. “I just wanted to feel them while I still can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, with Katie bucking and pulling at the restraints, Philo lifted the lamp and poured the oil over Katie’s bare breasts. It drizzled down onto her ribs, down onto the mattress. It coated her nipples in sizzling fluid, left her skin to bubble and blister, to boil right off the bone. It left gaping wounds </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> open sores </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> wherever it touched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Philo only smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time for the needle,” she said.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>